


The truth behind green eyes

by JAinsel



Series: Got prompts? [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Flashbacks, M/M, Mistrust, a con artist, really - Freeform, rich!Mickey, thief!Ian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-18 02:05:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5893981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JAinsel/pseuds/JAinsel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey has money and Ian wants to rob him? Or not?</p><p> </p><p>From the prompt: Ian and Mickey are together. Mickey's family is rich while Ian's family is poor, and for live he steals in the homes and in the street he steals wallets. Mickey doesn't know nothing about this and when he finds out the truth he thinks that Ian is with him for the money. What happen when they confront?</p><p> </p><p>I changed it a bit, cause apparently I'm not able to stick to a prompt 100%.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The man's head was pushed once again to hit face first the inside of the toilet bowl. The aggressor flushed the toilet, causing him to drink and inhale water.

"You had your fun, huh? When were you going to rob me blind?!" The man who was keeping the other's head down looked furious.

"I-I swear, I wasn't going to steal anything!" the redhead exclaimed, as soon as he stopped coughing because of the water. At the same time he was trying to catch as much breath as he could.

"I don't believe you!" The other man was still maintaining a strong grip on his ginger hair. "Just tell the fucking truth!"

"It is the truth! Please, Mick-"

"Don't you dare call me that, you fucking prick. Don't you dare." The man pulled the other one's hair, causing the redhead to yelp. "I'm fucking done with your bullshit."

"I didn't lie to you, Mickey. I mean, I did, but not for the reasons you think. I really l-"

Mickey pushed his head again against the bottom of the toilet bowl.

"Oh? Then what about telling me something real, Mr..." Mickey interrupted himself. "What's your real name, anyway?"

Mickey yanked his head up, turning it enough to look in his green eyes. Those fucking eyes. Fucking wicked. They were still able to make his legs wobble and his heart speed racing.

"It's Ian, it really is Ian. But my last name is Gallagher, not Callahan."

"And you're a thief. You fucking scam people."

Ian nodded. "I only scam rich people. Gay ones, it's easier for me. I only need to get close enough to them to get access to their house, in a way or another, and I take every valuables there is in it." He looked at Mickey, his face battered from the hits the dark-haired man had swung. Yet he still looked so fucking handsome.

"Glad you're finally being honest," Mickey said, recollecting himself.

Ian shot him a sad smile. "I never liked to lie to you."

"Well, you did." Micky snapped back. He worried his bottom lip. "Just- just tell me."

"Everything?"

"From the start," the dark haired man agreed. He let Ian go and they both sat on the bathroom floor. Ian beaten up and Mickey exhausted from inflicting the beating.

"I needed more money after the last guy -well, old man, really- that I scammed. So I went to the 'On the rocks' to find a new target..."

 

***

 

**5 months earlier**

 

Ian was sipping at his dirty Martini, scanning the bar to find a possible target. He was looking for an expensive dressed man. A gay one. One he could easily play because he knew he was a pretty thing and gay men, especially if old, loved to have a taste of his young ass.

Ian was a chameleon, able to blend in just perfectly. He was there to pose as a young businessman, not trying to pass for an elite prostitute. His goal was far from getting a couple hundred bucks for screwing an old queen. Yeah, money was always good, but he wanted more and more could come only if he played his cards right. Getting to know his target, making him trust him, not just fucking his brains out. For everyone there, right in that moment, he was Ian Callahan, a fucking yuppie working in the construction sector who lived between Chicago and fuck knew where, checking out sites on behalf of his company.

The redhead checked his Rolex, a gift from one of the many men who got screwed by him in more ways than one. This was the right time of the evening, when tired businessmen came to the bar to chill out and forget about their days at the office, maybe even their families.

There was a white haired old man who was staring intently at him. The guy was licking his lips and looking at him as if Ian was an eclair to swallow up in one mouthful. Ian felt a shiver down his spine. He was used to this kind of men but that didn't mean he liked them. Plus they were usually only handsy, eager to fuck or get fucked by him and probably never seen him again.

He needed someone else, he needed...

Him.

A young man, maybe a few years older than Ian, walked in the bar. Damn, he was gorgeous. Not tall, quite short for a guy, actually. With intense bright blue eyes and hair dark as a starless night. Pale, so pale. Ian bet he had freckles, even under his clothes...

Ian's eyes settled on the guy's knuckles. He had tattoos on them. FUCK U-UP they spelled.

They man was probably in the mob or something. Ian wasn't so stupid to steal something from someone dangerous. He was scamming people for a living, not for dying at the hands of some handsome hitman.

And yet... Yet the dark haired man noticed him and their eyes locked. Ian shouldn't have felt that attracted to him, but he did. Even when his brain was screaming at him that that guy was so not the right target. On top of being a shady figure he was also young and pretty and young pretty men weren't his usual, more difficult to let him in since they could get some without Ian's help.

Ian's body moved on its own accord and Ian told the barman to get the man whatever he wanted. At that point he could only hope the man wasn't gay (in a gay bar, sure) and he would only tell him to fuck off.

Instead the dark haired man hid his smile with some difficulty and exchanged a couple more words with the barman. The man poured him the desired drink and Ian took it as the right hint to approach him.

"So, what have I just offered you?" Ian asked, sliding on the stool next to the man's.

Blue eyes looked him up and down. The young man took a sip of his drink. "Jack on the rocks," he said, licking his lips the moment later.

"Do I get to know your name or that requires another drink on me?"

The man scoffed and shook his head. "Listen, you're cute and thanks for the drink, but I'm not going to buy your ass for the night. There's plenty of other-"

"You think I'm an escort?" Ian asked, amused. Did he come onto him too strong?

"You're not? That would be the first time ever that a handsome guy like yourself offers me a drink so out of the blue. Without aiming for money or a favor, that is."

The man tried to pass as nonchalant, sure of himself. But Ian was too used to read people and this guy in front of him was an insecure mess. He was playing it cool, but he didn't know how to behave with Ian, a gorgeous man who made a move on him. He had probably never ever been in a bar known to be an exclusive place for homosexuals. Ian smiled and leaned in slightly.

"Well, I'm not an escort and I'm not looking for money or favors" _Liar._ "I offered you a drink 'cause you look cute. And thirsty."

The man almost choked on his drink. "Cute? Have you seen me?" he sputtered and waved his tattooed hands.

"You bet I've seen you. Ever since you walked in," Ian replied, his tone of voice low and mellow. The man's eyes were on him. "Couldn't take my eyes off of you."

The man swallowed. "Oh yeah?"

"Uh-uh. So, what can I do to get to know your name?"

"Mickey," the man said. He looked surprised at himself for having blurted his name so abruptly. "My name's Mickey. And you are?"

"Ian. Ian Callahan, pleasure to meet you."

***

They had more than just one drink. Ian kept the drinks coming and Mickey didn't try to stop him. They were having fun, without really talking about themselves, just enjoying the other's presence. Mickey surprised Ian by asking him if he wanted to continue talking in some hotel room. Ian gladly accepted.

It didn't take long before they were crossing the threshold of the bedroom and Ian pushed the man against the nearby wall. They both well knew 'talking' wasn't what they really wanted.

Mickey tilted his chin up, leaving Ian more space to kiss the porcelain skin of his neck.

"Fuck. Ian," Mickey muttered, a whimper escaping from his lips. Yet, when Ian tried to cover them with his own, Mickey pulled back.

"I don't kiss," he said. But his eyes, roaming on Ian's face, mouth, full of lust... they were telling something else entirely.

Ian grinned. "Yeah, sure."

He went for Mickey's lips anyway and this time the man didn't pull back but rather went for it, responding immediately to the kiss. He parted his mouth and Ian pushed his tongue inside, making Mickey moan in pleasure. Fuck, his excited voice was intoxicating.

Ian didn't say anything about how Mickey had stated he didn't kiss and then he was getting hard just by having Ian's lips on his own. The redhead could understand that this man here, enveloped in his arms, wasn't used to this kind of intimacy with another person, a male. Instead Ian continued to kiss Mickey until the man's calves hit the end of the bed. He only needed a little push and Mickey was on the mattress.

Mickey sat up, spreading his legs around Ian's and busied himself with the redhead's belt. He hastily unbuckled it and pulled down the zip of Ian's jeans. Fuck, the man was in a hurry for dick, huh? Ian had his jeans down by the ankles in no time and he watched Mickey biting his bottom lip before pressing his nose against Ian's crotch, still covered by the slip. Mickey breathed in and only then he pulled down the slip as well. He stared at Ian's cock, hard and big in front of him.

"Packing some inches, huh?" he said, causing Ian to chuckle. He was aware he was well endowed, his dick was a necessary tool for his 'job'.

"Wanna stare at it some more or you gonna take it in your mouth?" Ian asked. He brought a hand to rest behind Mickey's neck, inviting the man's face closer. Mickey licked one fat stripe, from the base to the tip of his cock and breathed against it, making Ian shiver. He kissed it and then he engulfed as much of that cock as he could take in his mouth.

"Oh fuck," Ian gaped, bringing his hands to cup Mickey's face, trying to stop himself from fucking that warm mouth. "You're good, damn."

Mickey didn't say anything, but swallowed around his cock some more, bobbing his head up and down, every time trying to take in some more. Ian felt his tip brushing Mickey's throat and moaned. Mickey must have been hard too, because he pulled down his pants and boxer briefs too and started tugging at his own cock.

"W-wait... I don't wanna come like this," Ian gasped and it took a huge effort on his part to pull Mickey back. The blue eyed man let his cock drop from his wet lips with an annoyed sound.

"How do you wanna come then?" he asked, his lips puffy and so fuckable.

"Inside you," Ian said. "Tell me you bottom, Mickey."

Mickey smirked. He took off his shirt and then his pants and boxer briefs. He put himself in position, presenting his round, plump ass to Ian. "Just get in me," he said in a husky voice.

That was definitely a yes.

Ian retrieved a small sachet of lube and a condom in his pants and stepped out of them and the slip to join Mickey on the bed. He couldn't resist and kneaded that perfect ass before slicking up his fingers. He found Mickey's hole eager to take in his first finger. And the second. And the third. Mickey started thrusting back on his fingers, fucking himself against them and Ian thought it was so enticing.

He removed his fingers from inside Mickey's ass and used the remaining lube to slick up his cock after he had put on the condom. Mickey raised his butt up in the air, inviting. Ian pushed in, bottoming out in a few thrusts. Mickey grunted, pushing back as soon as he felt comfortable and Ian began to fuck him with vigorous thrusts.

Mickey didn't seem talkative, but he wasn't able to stifle his moans and grunts and they were music to Ian's ears. The redhead pushed Mickey's face against the pillow using his hand as a leverage between the man's shoulders. They both groaned loudly when the new angle caused Ian's cock to reach deeper inside of Mickey, hitting his prostate. Ian made a point to hit it again, and again.

"I-I'm close," Mickey gasped, reaching for his own cock with the hand. But Ian wanted to take care of it himself and swatted his hand away to stroke Mickey's erection.  

"Me too... Fuck, so tight." Mickey was taking it so good. Ian increased his speed and felt Mickey's inner walls clenching around him. The man had come in his hand and he himself was almost there. It took only a few more thrusts for him to reach his own climax and shot his load in the condom.

Ian regained his breath with his forehead placed against Mickey's back. He pulled out of him a few moments later and quickly disposed of the condom.

"Mind if I smoke?" Ian asked, looking for his pack of cigarette.

"Only if you don't give me a cigarette," the man replied, now laying on his back and stretching like a satisfied cat.

The redhead nodded and lit up the cigarette for Mickey and then another for himself. They basked in their afterglow smoking. In silence.

It was actually a comfortable silence. They didn't need words to say that they just had an amazing fuck.

It was when Mickey reached for his pants, slowly, as if he wasn't sure whether he wanted to go or not, that Ian asked

"Wanna see each other again? Sometimes? I enjoyed it, you know."

Mickey seemed relieved by the question. Maybe he had intended to suggest the same. "Sure." He shrugged, feigning a self confidence that he didn't have. There was a pen and a notebook on the nightstand and Mickey scribbled a few numbers on it. Ian didn't need to call him right away to know that that was the right number, not a fake one.

"Thanks," Ian said, taking the piece of paper in his hand.

"Whatever," Mickey replied. He finished dressing and he put on his coat. "Call me or... Yeah, See ya."

The dark haired man didn't wait for Ian's reply and closed the door behind him.

Ian smiled, typing Mickey's number on his phone. He could leave the hotel room, but it was already paid for. So why shouldn't he sleep wrapped around such comfortable linens?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the white haired man is the old queen we met outside the Fairytale. You know, the one Mickey told to learn how to run like a dude ;)
> 
> The story should be around 6-7 k :)
> 
> And, as always, comments and reviews are always well accepted. If you want to chat, here's my tumblr [all15knuckles-of-jainsel](http://all15knuckles-of-jainsel.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

"As you know, I called you the following weekend," said Ian. He was now with his arms tied behind his back with a dirty sheet from the laundry basket. Mickey had wanted to feel safe and had tied him up. "I actually wanted to call you before, but I didn't want to seem too eager."

"Have been busy anyway," Mickey grumbled. Truth was he had been waiting for Ian's call ever since he had left the fucking hotel. Just like a bitch. Fuck, now he was feeling so pathetic.

"We started seeing each other. Nothing new to you, Mickey."

"Meanwhile you were planning to rob me," Mickey said.

Ian shook his head. "No. That's not fair. I never... Not with you, anyway. Try to remember. It was you who invited me over the first time."

Mickey couldn't deny it. They had met each other often after their first encounter. After a while, he had become bored of the hotel rooms. Or rather, Mickey had wanted Ian in his house. It had been a big step for him, to have someone over, spending the night in his bed. With him. But Mickey had felt like he could trust the redhead. He had never been more wrong.

"It's probably your M.O." Mickey shrugged.

"That's not how it was- is, with you," Ian said, his eyes pleading. "Usually it doesn't take more than two months before I steal. But I couldn't do it with you. I think it was clear to me since the beginning... I let four months pass before I had to aim for a new target. Money at home was scarce, so."

"You could have asked me," the dark haired man surprised even himself saying that.

Ian scoffed. "Gallaghers don't beg. We scam, but we don't ask for money. And I couldn't ask you for it. I would've had to tell you the whole truth and I wasn't ready for that. I wanted you to think I was this young entrepreneur, someone with a degree, with a cool life. I only have a GED and I scam for a living, Not exactly a good catch. I didn't want you to feel betrayed..."

"Well, you did a good job with that," Mickey chuckled bitterly.

"I know. And I'm so sorry, Mickey I-"

"You fucked someone else," the man interrupted.

Ian nodded. He sighed. "Ned. He was the target. I had to find someone else if I wasn't gonna rob you. So I found Ned. About sixty, rich, in the closet. He opened his house to me the moment his wife left to go for a weekend at the spa. That's when I decided to pull the robbery. After that I was planning on trying to, you know, work things out with you..."

"Shut the fuck up, Ian. Just shut the fuck up." Mickey felt dirty. There was one thing about Ned that he wanted to know, though. "When did you start, huh, with him?"

Ian bit his bottom lip. "It... It happened a month ago."

"A month." The information was a knife to his heart. He had never suspected anything while he was basking in his illusion of happiness. "So when you were with me..."

 

***

 

**1 month earlier**

 

"Oh, fuck!" Mickey howled after a good, deep thrust from Ian. The redhead was kneeling behind him, resolved to hit his prostate every fucking time.

“You like it? Mh?” Ian whispered against his ear. He licked Mickey's lobe and kissed his neck, biting on the skin the moment later. Fuck, Mickey's scent was so good. It was sweat and sex, cigarette in his breath and then just him. And Ian wanted to drown in it. 

Mickey wasn't even able to nod. He only moaned louder. He stretched one arm back, pulling Ian's neck with his hand to start a messy kiss made of lips and teeth and panting in each other's mouths.

It was so good with Mickey and all Ian wanted was to make Mickey feel good too. Much to Mickey’s disappointment, Ian pulled out but he was received with a loud, appreciative moan when he flipped Mickey on his back and made him spread his legs. He then pushed inside, feeling again that tight warmth. The dark haired man pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around Ian’s back and his ankles locked by his hips.

Mickey searched for his lips again. It wasn’t even a kiss, just mouths close to each other, eyes meeting eyes. Mickey was so beautiful in that moment, messy hair and blood red lips. 

“So good, Mick,” Ian panted, close to reach the climax. Mickey was of the same advice.

"Coming…”

Ian didn’t even need to touch his cock for Mickey to come. He felt him clench around his own dick, he saw the expression on his face and he followed the man after a few good, hip bruising thrusts.

The redhead collapsed on top of Mickey, trying to catch his breath. Mickey never stopped hugging him, his hands caressing his back with a gentle touch, making him feel special and cared for. He actually hated to detach himself from him, but they were both pretty oversensitive by now.

Mickey opened his mouth to say something, but Ian’s phone buzzed twice. The redhead could only hope it wasn’t who he thought it was, he didn’t want to kill his afterglow already. “Could be work,” Ian said and climbed out of bed. He was conscious of Mickey’s stare behind him. On his ass, precisely. The grin that schooled on his face fell the second he opened his phone, though.

 

**[7:39 PM] Ned: I wanna come again in that pretty little mouth of yours.**

**[7:39 PM] Ned: Meet me tomorrow for a drink?**

 

Ian grimaced. He had just met the man and he was exactly like all the other targets were to him: an obnoxious, lecherous, closeted, old queen. Only Mickey was the exception. It was even inaccurate to compare Mickey to them, actually. The blue eyed man had never been a target, not really. It had been clear to Ian probably since the beginning. He wanted to fucking be with the guy. But, to do so, he needed to keep the lie alive. And he needed the money targets such as Ned provided. Even if it meant fucking someone else than Mickey on the side. 

 

**[7:41 PM]: Sure. At the Fountain, 5 pm. Can’t wait.**

 

It was the first time he would actually feel nauseous texting and lying to a target. But Mickey was in the same room and Ian was drowning in guilt.

“Ian? Come to bed?” he heard Mickey saying.

The phone buzzed another time.

 

**[7:42 PM]Ned: Me too. See you tomorrow Gingersnaps.**

 

_Ew._

Ian climbed back into bed and Mickey covered his naked body with the blanket.

“Work?”

“Yeah…”

Mickey frowned. “You don’t have to go now, right? It’s late…”

Ian couldn’t help but smile. It had taken some time, but Mickey opened to him so much now. He didn’t worry anymore to sound too attached.

“Nah. But tomorrow afternoon I gotta catch a plane.”

“And here I thought we could have stayed here watching some television series…” Ian would’ve loved that. “You stayin' tonight, though?”

Ian nodded. “Yeah of course.”

The man smiled at him, satisfied with the answer. “I’m hungry. Wanna order some pizza?”

“Sure, but I froze my naked ass when I was on the phone…” Ian grinned, a mischievous smile on his face. “Need to get some warmth first.”

Mickey chuckled when Ian got with his head under the blanket. Exactly by the middle of his legs.

 

***

 

“And I even took you to the airport…” Mickey muttered. He knew about Ned by now, but he felt so dirty. Betrayed. “You came back from your ‘business trip’ and we met right away and you said that you missed me…”

“I did.”

“You were so fucking into it.”

“I was. Mickey, I was so glad when I came back to you and-”

“Oh please! You were giving it to some old fuck behind my back, just stop!”

Ian shut up. He didn't know how to convey his feelings, how to tell Mickey that whatever he had had with Ned or his other targets had nothing to do with him. Because in the end it was true: he _did_ betray Mickey’s trust. And he knew that for the black haired man it was a big deal, to give someone else the ability to hurt them.

He had so royally fucked up.

“You didn’t seem surprised about Ned, though,” Ian said. Mickey was angry, but not shocked. When Ian had come to see Mickey at his home, the man had punched him straight in the face. He had started yelling, accusing Ian of, well, the truth. Ian now wasn't sure of how much Mickey knew.

Mickey scoffed. “Cause I wasn't.”

“How…” Ian had been so cautious.

The man looked at the redhead with disgust. “You remember the party?”

 

***

 

**9 days earlier**

 

Mickey knew it was a shit move, but he really couldn't bring himself to straightforward ask Ian to come with him at the party held by his company. In his mind every way was a too gay way, like he was asking him for prom or something.

That was why Mickey invited Ian over promising pizza and ended up ‘only then remembering’ he had to attend to the party.

“So I guess we have to say goodbye?” Ian said, getting up from the couch.

“Nah man, you can come with. I mean, if you want,” Mickey said, avoiding Ian's eyes.

Ian frowned. “But I don't have anything to wear. Don't think I can come wearing jeans and t-shirt.”

Okay, that was the hardest part. “I could, huh.” Mickey cleared his throat, loudly. “I could lend you something.”

Ian looked him up and down with a grin. “You sure we're of the same size? I can't exactly wear pants ending above the ankles.”

Smug motherfucker.“That's not a problem. I still have a slightly bigger suit somewhere.”

“From the days you were taller?”

“Fuck you. They screw up the size during a fitting. Now, you want it or not?”

Ian smiled. “Sure, Mick. Show it to me.”

Mickey made a show of rummaging through his suits in the wardrobe. Yet he knew exactly where it was. He had bought the fucking suit just a few days ago for the occasion.

“Oh, here it is,” Mickey said. The suit was dark grey, expensive looking. Mickey had also a 'wrong sized' green shirt amongst his other shirts in the drawer. The man had thought specifically of Ian choosing the suit and the shirt. He knew Ian's measurements and had imagined how the redhead would look handsome in them. Ian might have enough money on his own but the dark haired man had discovered how pleasurable it was to buy stuff for his man.

_His man…_

They were going out, right? Mickey had never thought to get serious with someone before. However, with Ian it seemed possible. Even desirable. Fuck, he was so close to fall for the redhead it was ridiculous.

Ian grinned. Maybe Mickey hadn't been as subtle as he thought. “Thanks, Mick.”

He leaned down, pecking Mickey on the lips. The dark haired man risked to melt in a puddle of goo.

Ian started undressing and Mickey lost a few moments staring at him before taking off his clothes as well.

Mickey licked his lips and checked an almost naked Ian out. Then he checked the time. Nope, no time even for a quickie.

Ian put the clothes on.

They fitted him so fucking perfectly. Exactly how Mickey had imagined.

He wanted to peel them off of him immediately.

“You look good,” the dark haired man said, pointing his tongue by the corner of his mouth. He finished wearing his own light grey suit and black shirt.

“You too,” Ian replied. He came closer, hooking his fingers by Mickey's belt loops. “You look ravishing. I wanna eat you up, do we have a little time for-”

Mickey closed the distance by kissing him hard on the lips. The kiss soon turned into something more passionate, but they were interrupted by the buzzing sound of Ian’s phone.

“Shit.” Ian gave him another kiss and went to check on his phone.

“Tell me you don’t gotta go.” Mickey was starting to hate Ian’s job. But Ian shook his head.

“Nah, it’s nothing. I’m all yours tonight.”

That earned Ian a big, surprising smile from Mickey. Ian smiled too and kissed his cheek. “You’re so pretty when you smile.”

The dark haired man fucking blushed and flipped him off, but he was secretly all giddy for the compliment.

***

The party was sumptuous and Mickey was often dragged into boring conversations with subordinates and superiors. What they were talking about? Numbers.

Mickey remembered how Ian had looked shocked finding out that Mickey worked as an accountant and he was now in competition with a couple of other colleagues to become the next CFO. Apparently Ian had thought he was in the mob or something because of the tattoos.

Ian was standing by his side, charming the people at the party and helping Mickey look more amiable. The dark haired man was so glad he had bough Ian with him. He was actually glad he had Ian in his life.

“I’m gonna get us drinks,” said Ian, tapping lightly at his shoulder. Mickey nodded distractedly, too engrossed in tasting a fantastic grilled lime shrimp. 

Ian hadn’t been gone for more than twenty seconds, before a man approached Mickey. Thompson, a dick, really. Also one of his competitors for the CFO position.

“Hey Mickey,” the man greeted. He seemed rather friendly, but Mickey knew that Thompson was fucking envious of him. Mickey was young and well liked in the firm, whereas he was passed his sixty and the actual CFO had no respect for him. Plus Mickey suspected the man was gay even if married to a woman, with children and resented Mickey’s freedom.

“Arthur,” he greeted, not really eager to start a conversation with him. He motioned to leave, but the man’s words stopped him.

“I’ve always known you shared my tastes, Mickey, but I never pegged you as stupid.”

Mickey arched one eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

Thompson nodded towards Ian by the buffet table. “That young pretty thing, the redhead. He’s with you tonight, right?”

Mickey shrugged. If Thompson was going to saying something bad about Ian he was going to fucking beat up the guy. 

“I know him as Curtis, but maybe he doesn’t go by that name these days. Let me guess. He approached you at a bar and he got inside your house, huh?”

Bright blue eyes widened at that information. It was exactly what had happened. “So?” And, Curtis? “You have him confused for someone else-”

“I don’t think so. But hey, free to not believe me. I’ll tell you this, though. The ginger robbed me blind. You know, he talks with you, you tell him secrets, you show him your home the day your family’s at your wife’s parents… The next thing you know, that fucker steals everything of value in the house and you have to tell your fucking wife that you don’t know how, but a thief somehow guessed the security code.” He snickered. “Well, at least you don’t have a family. You’ll be alone in your empty home. It’s better, I guess.”

Mickey couldn’t believe his words. No, he _didn’t want_ to believe them. Because if they were true, then…

Then Ian was a liar, a thief and he was only using him. Ian didn’t care for him, he wanted to steal from him. And all the feelings Mickey had for the redhead would be something Ian could laugh about in the future.

Mickey was feeling sick now.

“You’re wrong,” he said anyway, his voice weak to his own ears.

“I’m not. As a proof why don’t you take a look at his ‘work phone’. I’m sure he’s plotting about how to steal from you with his partners in crime.”

“Why should you tell me that? You don’t like me,” Mickey replied. He didn’t want to give the man any satisfaction, but the pleased look on his face told him otherwise.

“Well, on the one hand, I want that fucker to pay -I couldn’t press charges against him, not when… you know-. But the truth?” He smiled viciously. “I simply wanted to see your face knowing that you’ve been played all along. From the looks you give him, it’s clear he’s not just a fuck to you…”

With these last words, Thompson waved his goodbye to a dumbfounded Mickey.

Fuck, he needed to puke.

The dark haired man made a run for the nearest toilet, where he vomited and cried as silently as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, Arthur Thompson is the man Ian and Mickey blackmailed. The black and blue balls man.


	3. Chapter 3

“I checked your phone as soon as I could get my hands on it,” Mickey said, leaning his head against the bathroom wall.

“But you didn’t find any plotting in it,” Ian whispered, knowing fully well what the man had found instead.

Mickey shook his head. “Worse. I found your texts with that geriatric viagroid.” Even the memory of those messages made him cringe in disgust. They were filthy texts from and to whom Mickey had believed was his boyfriend. All the guilt he had felt when taking Ian's phone had vanished the moment he had found them.

Ian closed his eyes. “I'm so sorry, Mick.”

Mickey scoffed. “You weren't before.”

“I was! I felt so bad doing it. Before I met you it was… okay. Something to get good money. And then…”

“You kept on doing it.”

“Not with you," he replied softly.

Mickey didn't answer. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't even sure about what he was angry about. Ian fucking someone else or Ian being a thief. Was Ian going to steal from him too? Or cheating again and again on him because scamming people that way was his damn job?

They were both sitting on the cold bathroom floor and Mickey realized he was angry because he didn't know if Ian held true feelings for him.

“I've never planned on stealing from you. That's why I had Ned.”

“I saw you,” Mickey blurted before he could stop his mouth from running.

Ian frowned. “What?”

“I followed you last Thursday, when you broke in that old queen’s house. I thought you were going to meet up with him, instead I witnessed to something else entirely.”

 

***

 

**Last Thursday**

 

Mickey accompanied Ian to the airport. The redhead had to go on another business trip.  Yeah, sure.

Instead of going back as he would usually do, Mickey waited for Ian's next move.

He almost hoped that the redhead wouldn't come out from the exit doors, that right in that moment Ian was walking to his gate. That it had been all a big misunderstanding.

Mickey felt his heart break in one thousand pieces when he saw that ginger son of a bitch appear again not even ten minutes later, looking left and right and then approaching a taxi.

With a curse, the black haired man followed suit. It was like in a spy movie, minus the adrenaline. Mickey's eyes threatened to let tears to fall down at any minute. He didn't want to see Ian with another man, but he needed to at the same time.

Was Ian behaving with him just like he was doing with Mickey? Was he playing that man just like Mickey?

As hard as it would be Mickey was set on witnessing the scene with his own eyes and then beat both Ian and the other fucker up. No, wait. He was going to kill them, he was getting fucking homicidal by the second. He just wanted it to be over already.

Mickey was mad, he was so not crying inside.

The cab pulled over and Ian paid for the fare. However, the redhead didn’t stop there and kept on walking. Mickey stopped his car in a nearby spot and decided to follow him by foot. He could only hope that Ian wasn’t going to get picked up by a car or something.

After fifteen minutes of walking (and hiding, at least on Mickey’s part), Ian stopped next to a nice, big house. Mickey noticed a white van parked nearby and the nodding of the man in the driver’s seat towards Ian.

The man in the van was really just a teenager. Mickey was pretty sure he wasn’t Ned. But then, what was going on?

Ian walked towards the main door of the house and opened it with his own set of key.

Was that Ian’s house? Ian told him he didn’t have an actual one, since he always had to move because of his job. In Chicago he was simply staying by some relatives, but…

The white van started to move in silence and parked again in the front yard of the house Ian had just walked in. The driver and two other guys jumped off the van and entered as well.

In that moment Mickey knew what was really going on.

That was the old man’s house and Ian with his partners in crime were going to rob the place.

Mickey could open his phone and call 911. Easy as that, Ian would get his ass hauled to jail. Yet he didn’t even pick up the phone, he only stared at the house while trying to hide his frame as best as he could behind a bush.

He saw Ian and the other guys coming out of the house with valuables and antiques, expensive rugs and old clocks. All that stuff combined was worth at least twenty thousand bucks. He witnessed the burglars loading everything in the van and Ian taking something from his pocket. His phone. The redhead clicked something on it and waited. Was he calling that Ned?

He felt his own phone buzzing instead and answered before someone could hear his ringtone.

“Yeah,” he greeted after coughing once.

“Hey…” Ian’s voice was so sweet on the other side of the line. “I just landed in Atlanta.”

Mickey looked at Ian on the other side of the street, leaning against the white van. The redhead was smiling softly. But he so was not in the state of Georgia.

“How’s the weather?” Mickey asked, without taking his eyes off the man.

“Not bad. Hot though,” Ian replied, sighing. He was sweaty alright, but not because of the weather. Moving too much stolen stuff had that effect on people.

“When are you coming back?” Mickey asked.

“Couple days?”

Sure, he had to sell all that stuff before.

“Okay. So I’ll see you on Sunday?”

“Yeah…” Ian bit his bottom lip, looking behind him, at the guys finishing to put all the stolen goods in the white vehicle. “I-I miss you already.”

Fuck. Mickey felt butterflies in his stomach and his shattered heart collapsing at the same time. He didn’t know how to take those words. Was Ian really missing him? Or he was actually planning on robbing him too in the near future?

The problem was that Mickey missed him too already. He had just lost his Ian, the one he thought was real, he missed him so fucking much. He wanted the man he could trust back.

“Yeah, me too,” Mickey replied truthfully.

“I’m going to kiss the shit out of you the moment I see you, Mick.” Ian chuckled and nodded towards the driver. “I gotta go now, taxi’s here. But I’ll call you later?”

The now full white van slid on the street and Mickey watched it disappear.

“Yeah, whatever, man,” the man said before turning off his phone.

 

***

 

**Back to Sunday**

 

“You were there,” Ian said. “Fuck.”

“Yeah… Fuck.” Mickey got up and opened the faucet for the hot water at the sink. He didn't really need to wash his hands but he felt like doing something else beside staring at the tied up man.

He wondered if the restraints were too tight. Then he thought he had used fucking sheets. Then he realized he shouldn't be worried about the fucker’s well being.

The redhead had brought it on himself. He had come back from his ‘trip’ all smiles and charm. Yet before the bastard could kiss the shit out of him as promised Mickey had delivered him a punch straight in the smug face. Accuses had followed and Ian was now sporting a soon to be black-eye, a split lip and had probably several nasty bruises on his body.

“I’m so sorry you've seen it,” Ian said after Mickey had closed the faucet.

“I'm not. At least now I know who you are,” Mickey replied, a bitter taste on his tongue.

Ian seemed ready to argue something, but instead he just nodded.

“You tricked me ever since the beginning.” Mickey had just dried his hands and now they were itching to close in a fist and connect with Ian's nose. Hard. “Everything you told me about yourself was a fucking lie!”

“But what was I supposed to do? Tell you the truth?”

“Yes, dammit!” Mickey shouted, surprising them both. He huffed a breath, sitting again on the cold tiles. “It's just… You tell me you're a fucking burglar but you never meant to steal from me and maybe if you had come clean to me on your own, but now… Now you’ve told me only because I forced you to. I can’t believe you anymore. Not to mention you’re a fucking criminal and I swore I was so fucking done with illegal shit.”

Mickey’s family had always been up to no good, but Mickey was out. Ironically he got in deep with a con artist. He had never feel so used before, not even by his fucking father. At least the motherfucker was honest with his cruelty.

“Would…” Ian licked his hurt lips. “Would it really have changed anything if I had told you who I was? What I did for money?”

Mickey shrugged. “I think so. But we’ll never know now, won’t we.”

Ian nodded and they remained silent, staring at each other. Ian’s green eyes looked so fucking earnest, but they had always looked like that and that had been the reason for Mickey to trust him so much.

Mickey sighed. “I’m gonna let you go, now.”

The redhead was shocked. “What?”

He moved closer and untied the knot behind Ian’s back. “You didn’t steal from me. I don’t know if it’s because I discovered your plan or you really never meant to, but I’m pretty sure my belongings are safe. I don’t really care about Ned or fucking Thompson, so…” Mickey put some distance between Ian and himself, since the other man was now free to move again. “You’re free to go.”

Ian was stretching his arms when Mickey walked past the bathroom door. He followed the man to the kitchen. Mickey sighed.

“I told you you’re free to go.”

Ian didn’t move an inch.

“I- I know you’re not going to believe me, you told me so, but…” He bit his bottom lip. “We’ve been seeing each other for nearly five months and I’ve been so happy with you and… I was just so afraid of telling you the truth. I didn’t want you to be scared of me, or look down on me or… I don’t know, Mick. I don’t want this to be over. You and me.”

“Ian-”

“I love you,” Ian said, not letting Mickey finish his sentence. “This is who I am. I scam people, I let them trust me and then I steal everything of value I can from their homes. I’m not rich, though. Money is always scarce in my house. I have siblings and nieces and nephews and… Not important.” Ian had Mickey’s attention. “I told you I’m sorry and I can keep on telling you that everyday of my life. Don’t think I enjoy doing what I do. I’d do something else, but I don’t have any real skill, so… If you want to know more about me, the real me, you know how to call me.”

Mickey found himself nodding, but he kept his secure position behind the kitchen counters.

Ian walked towards the main door. “I swear my feelings for you are true. I hope you’ll believe me.”

The redhead opened and closed the door behind him. As soon as he heard the closing sound, Mickey collapsed on the floor. He didn’t know what to do now.

 

***

 

Going to work after a sleepless night was hard. Mickey had rolled in bed thinking about Ian and his words and his actions and who he fucking was and did. He didn’t know what to think about that fucking redhead.

Ian had told him he loved him.

Was it true?

Everything should scream at Mickey to not believe it. Yet those green eyes. They seemed honest, not one trace of lie in them. Maybe Ian was just a good actor, Mickey bitterly thought. He blew on his hot coffee and took a sip, burning his tongue.

Nope, still too hot.

Mickey was standing next to the coffee machine, lost in his thoughts, when another man approached him.

“Mickey, good morning to you!” Thompson greeted. The white haired man got himself a cup of coffee too. “You look like shit, I take it you talked with your boytoy?”

Blue eyes raised up and Mickey woke up from his daze. “None of your business,” he replied on the defensive.

Thompson raised his hands up in surrender. “Just asking, Mickey. And it is kind of my business. He stole from me, remember?”

Of fucking course he remembered. Just the thought of Ian with Thompson made him want to throw up once again. That old queen in front of him was like the embodiment of everything that he hated right now. He had been Ian’s target and yet he looked all smug about it. The redhead had stolen from him, sure, but only stuff, tangible things the man could replace, whereas Mickey had had his heart taken away and now he was suffering. There was no trace of sadness in Thompson, he probably only thought of Ian as an incredibly expensive fuck.

“So what,” Mickey spat, taking a sip of his coffee and grimacing because now it was too cold.

“So, how did it go?”

Mickey didn’t reply. He didn’t want to give the man any satisfaction. Thompson seemed unperturbed by the silence, though. He just continued to talk, not minding the younger man’s menacing expression.

“I hope that fucker got what he deserves. Don’t get me wrong, He’s an awesome lay and I wouldn’t mind spanking that tight ass for punishment, but he stole this old watch belonging to my great-grandfather… It’s true though that he also got rid of that awful vase my wife thinks it’s a sublime piece of art.” The man scoffed. “You know what? I should definitely give him a call. The twink can’t be trusted for shit but he sucks cock like-”

Thompson didn’t get to finish his sentence that Mickey kneed him in the balls with all the force he had. The older man fell on the floor, both of his hands pressed against his groins wailing with pain.

“What the fuck, Milkovich!” he cried.

“You don’t get to talk about him like that!” Mickey shouted He had tried to remain calm while the man talked but hearing him speaking about Ian in such terms… That had gotten Mickey angry. And he favored angry over sad anytime. “What the fuck do you know about Ian, huh? Twink? That’s all he is to you? Just some twink? You don’t know him, he’s so much better than you. He might be a liar but so are you. Why don’t you spank your wife’s ass instead? Why don’t you tell your daughter you like dick? I’m fucking glad Ian got you good. It’s your fault for living a lie!”

Mickey hadn’t noticed he was yelling so loud other people came to witness the scene. But he couldn’t give a fuck about them, and especially about Thompson’s feelings, if he had any.

“You don’t know him like I do. He’s so much more than you think. He’s sweet and caring and he fucking loves me and you don’t get to say shit about him.”

He said the words in a calmer tone of voice. He would’ve probably delivered a kick to the man’s chest if not for the other people present. Mickey only shook his head and walked past the crowd to take the elevator.

 

***

 

Mickey had told Thompson he knew Ian much better than he did. And that was maybe true but Mickey had only learned Ian’s real name the day before, when he had the redhead’s face hitting against the inside of the toilet bowl. Ian had also told him that he had a big family and the the money was always scarce, probably because of too many mouths to feed. Mickey didn’t know much else. Everything that he thought he knew was false. Ian had told him that his feelings were true but how could Mickey be sure?

Yet, instead of being still angry and confused, after the fight with his colleague Mickey was feeling genuinely curious. And yes, even hopeful.

He wanted to know about Ian, about who he truly was. No more lies. He needed something real.

And the only way to get it was to see Ian’s life for himself.

That was the reason why Mickey was now standing in front of the door of the Gallagher’s house. In fucking Canaryville, South Side. The house looked decent enough, but the front yard was unkempt and it was still situated in a poor neighborhood, high crime rate and everything. Mickey had already noticed some suspect individuals looking at his expensive car with greedy eyes.

He rang the doorbell, hoping to find Ian on the other side of the door. What -who- Mickey found opening the door for him was a small child, barely tall enough to reach for the handle. He had ginger hair, a shade brighter than Ian’s and big brown eyes. Mickey must have stared for too long, because the child sighed.

“Yeah?”

The man recollected himself. “I’m looking for Ian?”

“Is that a question?”

Okay, this kid was too sassy for his age. Mickey didn’t know if he should find it funny or incredibly disturbing.

“No, it’s not a fucking question. Go get me Ian, now.” Mickey successfully appeared menacing enough, because the child ran off. Hopefully to call Ian.

Mickey waited at the door for exactly one minute before the redhead he was looking for appeared. Ian looked so different from the usual. He wore faded sweats and there was puke on the shoulder of his already stained shirt. He had a baby in one arm, the probable cause of the puking.

“Mickey,” Ian said. It was more of a statement than a greeting. The redhead looked hopeful and terrified at the same time. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too.” The shorter man scoffed and decided to explain. “Once you told me your last name was Gallagher I looked for you. It took me a couple of days, but here you are.”

Ian bit his bottom lip, looking unsure of what to do.

“You wanna come inside?” he finally asked.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

Ian stepped aside to let Mickey in and the dark haired man found himself in front of what could only be described as a mess.

The living room had turned into a pillow fort and a few kids were playing inside, the child from before taking part in it as well. Pillows, blankets  and toys everywhere. Mickey’s apartment was spotless, with the cleaning lady coming thrice a week so the man was now on the verge of a cultural shock.

“You okay?” Ian asked, with a shy smile on his face. He seemed aware of their surroundings, of the mess and the kids and the poverty in the house. He looked ashamed, as if Mickey would think less of him because of it.

“You don't gotta look embarrassed, man. It’s not because of this,” and he waved at the room. “that we have problems.”

Ian blushed and quickly nodded. “I know…”

Ian gestured for Mickey to follow him in the kitchen, since the living room was already full enough with the kids. “You, huh, want some coffee?”

Mickey nodded. “Sure, thanks.”

Ian put the baby in a nearby crib, already occupied by another baby with the same brown hair color. He turned his back to Mickey to use the coffee machine. It gave Mickey enough courage to ask

“I need to say this first. Before we get to the talking you gotta tell me if you intend to keep on being a burglar. And of course if you'll have other men on the side because of your ‘job'.”

Ian immediately turned to look at him. He shook his head.

“No. Neither of these things. I can't do this scam anymore. It felt so wrong the last time.”

Last time being Ned. Lying to Mickey the whole time.

“Good,” the dark haired man said. He accepted the coffee Ian poured for him and he took a moment to taste it. “So, what about the kids in the living room? Relatives?”

Ian’s lips quirked up in a tired smile. “Part of them, yes.” He leaned back against the counter, sighing. “The kid who opened the door is my youngest sister’s. She had him when she was fifteen. Now she’s at this community college, she’s really trying her best to be a mom and a student, but not a good bread winner. There’s a girl in the pillow fort, she’s two and she’s also my niece. From my oldest sister’s and this fucking junkie. He stole all of our money to buy drugs and fucked off somewhere and she doesn’t seem to be able to keep a job for more than three months. Oh, the two babies in the crib are my brother Carl’s twins. His girlfriend had them while he was in juvie, she also lives here. Now- Oh, you saw him, I think. He was the driver, huh, at Ned’s house… Anyway. I hope he gets a legal job cause I can’t have him in jail. He needs to put some money on the table too. Then I have two more brothers, but one he’s not even eight and the other is doing an internship and I’m sure he’ll be hired and all - he’s a fucking genius, really- but right now he can’t send us money. The pay is so low he can barely feed himself. And then there’s me.”

Ian, who had talked fast to get out all the information, took a break and sighed. Mickey didn’t interrupt him. “I dropped out of high school and there are not so many places that want to hire me. Plus with the kids is always a mess. So, since I’m pretty I decided to steal from rich men. Before I’d just go out with them, they’d buy me nice things, order room service… So I thought, why not take more?” He looked at the dark haired man, who had remained silent next to him. “Of course I didn’t think you’d come along. I lied to you when we first met and then the lie became too big for me to tell you the truth.”

“I like your truth,” Mickey said, causing Ian to look at him with wide eyes.

“Really.”

“Hu-hu.” Mickey nodded. “First, it’s the truth. I prefer honesty over everything else. Second, I grew up in a big family but my father was a piece of shit, instead these kids seem happy. It means you and your siblings are taking good care of them. Third, I kind of like this Ian Gallagher, with puke on his shirt.”

Ian looked immediately at his shirt, finally taking notice of the fresh stain. “What the fuck!”

The redhead glared down at the crib, where the twins were peacefully asleep. Mickey snickered.

“Yeah, I definitely prefer this Ian.”

Ian smiled at him. “You know, I never behaved differently when I was with you. I couldn’t fake that.”

“Well I hope so,” Mickey said. “But I think I’m glad that Ian Gallagher doesn’t have to go to work at godforsaken hours or take the fucking plane. I like you here in Chicago.”

The redhead blushed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Mickey placed his cup in the sink and so did with Ian’s. He cornered him against the counter.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Mickey,” he said with a little smirk.

Ian’s smile was definitely wider. That fucking dork. “Hi, I’m Ian Gallagher.”

Mickey chuckled and fisted Ian’s shirt with his hand. Ian leaned in, meeting him halfway for the first kiss of their second first meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it's the end!  
> Hope you liked it <3
> 
> next story will probably be a ficlet sequel of Little Red and the Big Bad Wold, to be followed by a new multichapter (longer than this one)

**Author's Note:**

> the white haired man is the old queen we met outside the Fairytale. You know, the one Mickey told to learn how to run like a dude ;)
> 
> The story should be around 6-7 k :)
> 
> And, as always, comments and reviews are always well accepted. If you want to chat, here's my tumblr [JAinsel & the Ships](https://jainsel-and-the-ships.tumblr.com)


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